The Flag Business

A recent Friday, 2:24 p.m.: Were it not for the bouquet of a dozen tiny American flags he held in his hand, Philip Myers might have blended into the sidewalk scene in front of the Ferry Building.
He held his flags and watched as pedestrians flowed past him at intervals dictated by the traffic lights and streetcars. His military-issue hat and puffy camouflage parka disappeared into the winter shadows; his veteran ID card and a sign reading, “Thank you for remembering disabled veterans,” were the only things that pointed to a small donation cup propped on a rolling cart.

“I always call it the flag business, but it’s not a business. It’s anything but a business,” Myers said. “It’s more of a lifeline … (for) people who like myself, who have been turned down for their pension.”
Both his father and grandfather served in the armed forces, and when his mother gave him an ultimatum to get a job or join the military at age 18, he chose the Army. It was 1969, but before he could be shipped out to Vietnam, Myers said, he suffered a mental break that “no longer allowed me to fulfill my military contract.” After a year in the service, he was discharged.
The 10 years that followed were some of the hardest he said he’s ever endured. Bouts with depression, homelessness and jail time came with regularity.
“When I came out I was 100 percent disabled,” Myers said. “I was physically OK, but mentally I couldn’t hardly tie my own shoes.”
He added, “It broke my heart. … Having the opportunity to serve — it was a gift, and then just having that gift just snatched away from under your feet. I never even saw it coming.”
Eventually, he met other veterans in San Francisco who distribute flags for donations to help bring awareness to their experiences.
Now 61, Myers has been holding flags for donations on the streets of San Francisco for more than 25 years.
That single year he spent in the Army ended up defining his identity. Despite all he’s gone through, when he puts on the Class A uniform hat he was first issued more than 40 years ago, he’s reminded of everything he loves about his country.
He never did receive a pension for his service. He says he’s still fighting for one.
He buys the 8-inch “Made in the USA” flags from a party supply store for $4.50 a dozen, and on a good day makes enough to buy a couple of dozen more. It’s OK if people want a flag and don’t want to give money, Myers says, as long as they understand what the flag represents.
“It’s a symbol of freedom and liberty and it’s a symbol of America … everybody coming together,” he said. “It’s never been about money. It’s about acknowledging not just me personally, but just veterans and all that they have gone through. When I see the flag … next to God himself, there is nothing I love more than the United States of America.”